


No cruelty

by Roselyn



Category: A Cure For Wellness (2016)
Genre: Dehydration, Eels, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Feeling sick, Hallucinations, Hannah's very sorry, Incest, Nausea, Parent/Child Incest, She wants to take care of him, Stomach Ache, Volmer's very sick, Vomiting, belly pain, but alive, graphic vomiting, stomach cramps, worrying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 00:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16006349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roselyn/pseuds/Roselyn
Summary: Volmer suffers.Hannah's very sorry.





	No cruelty

**Author's Note:**

> I knew you waited for this eagerly, so I rushed.

Dr. Heinreich Volmer groans, reaching down to touch his belly. He’s sore, swollen, exposed. 

There is an oddly sweet taste in his mouth. 

And the nausea takes over. Violent nausea that makes him reach over the bed, vomiting. He is sick, sweaty, in pain. 

A slimy flood of creatures erupts from his mouth, suffocating him. His eyes water, his stomach cramps painfully enough to force out a series of sobs. 

Some water comes up the wrong way, ending up in his nose. It burns, tastes like bile. It’s very difficult to breathe. It feels like there is no end to his agony. 

And then, he draws breath, wiping his mouth to his sleeve with a shaking hand. 

His hands are free. . . 

“I am sorry. I am sorry I shouldn’t have. . . Please. Please don’t be angry with me,” a soft mouse-like voice speaks from the darkness. Volmer can feel a cool hand against his back, rubbing him. 

“H-Hannah?” 

“I am sorry. Please, please don’t be angry. Don’t . . . don’t die. . .” 

Volmer gags and reaches over the bed again. He can feel them, the tentacle-like creatures, slithering up. Some of them come up backwards, trying to swim their way back down his stomach. He can feel them, wiggling in his mouth. There are too many; he cannot breathe. He’s going to suffocate. 

Hannah rubs his back with soothing circles. “A little more. Once more,” she tells, almost coos. “Then they’re all out. I counted. Five more. . .” 

Volmer does as he’s told, though against his wish. His body wants to get rid of the nasty creatures, the slimy infestation that has tormented his belly from the inside. He recognizes the sweet taste, while vomiting out the rest of the eels. It’s ipecac. It must have been Hannah’s doing. . .

“There, there. . . that was the last of them,” her sweet voice purrs. 

Volmer isn’t certain if he believes her. It still feels like there is something swimming in his bloated stomach, wiggling, slithering. . . He coughs. A line of spits flows out of his mouth. Nothing more comes up. He’s done. 

Hannah helps him to turn on his back. He’s too tired to open his eyes, but he can feel the soft cool rag. The girl taps his brow, wipes away the line of spit. 

“I am sorry,” she whispers again, wetting the rag. She moves in to tap his forehead again. 

Volmer wonders blindly how long he’s been unconscious. If the mask is still properly on. . . 

“Here,” Hannah tells, slipping something cool in his mouth. An ice cube. “You bit your tongue, earlier. . .” Her fingers toy with his hair, gentle, caring. Almost apologetic. . .

Volmer sucks the ice cube slowly. It feels pleasantly cool against his numb tongue. The pure water tastes good. 

“Please don’t be angry with me,” Hannah’s mouse like voice whispers again from the darkness. Her hand lands on his belly. 

Volmer jerks away. He’s sore, and very cold. 

“Don’t touch me Hannah,” he tells, curling up. He’s shivering. His stomach hurts. He’s nauseous again. 

The room grows so silent and still it makes him wonder if he’s hallucinated the girl. 

Hannah moves next to him on the bed. She pulls the blanked over his shivering form. 

“You’re very sick. I’ll help you,” she tells. 

Dr. Volmer slips unconscious again. It is very cold. 

He wakes up later to a salty taste. Hannah’s finger is inside his mouth. She’s rubbing salt to his gums, to help his hydration. 

“Please, drink,” she whispers and raises his head. 

Volmer can feel the edge of the glass against his lips, and drinks. The water tastes sweet in his mouth, pure, cool. He drinks eagerly and the girl pulls the glass away. 

“Not so much,” her sweet voice tells. Her fingers stroke his hair. “Otherwise you’ll get sick again.” 

“N-no cruelty Hannah,” Volmer croaks. His mouth feels very dry. “L-let me drink. You have to let me. . .” 

He slips unconscious again. 

And wakes up again. Hannah lets him drink a bit more. She kisses his brow, settling down next to him. Her body’s warm against his own. 

Volmer drifts off to sleep. 

He awakes, his lips slightly parted. Hannah’s finger trails the path of his lips, gentle, teasing, almost if wondering something. 

Volmer shifts and takes her finger in his mouth. He’s not cold anymore. He feels very warm. Hannah lies next to him under the blanket. Her thigh rests against his hip. 

Hannah dips her finger deeper into his mouth, lets him fondle her cool skin with his tongue. She kisses his sweaty brow and pulls her hand away. It slips under the blanket, reaching for his middle. 

Volmer pushes her away. He’s sore. 

“I don’t want you Hannah. Don’t touch me.” 

“Liar,” the sweet voice of the sadist whispers from the darkness. Her tongue touches his ear. Her cool hand rests on his burning chest. 

Volmer is in fever. 

He’s not sure if the girl’s with him. 

He drifts off again. 

It is very cold when he wakes up but he’s feeling better. Thirsty, but better. There’s a glass of water on the nightstand and so he drinks, long and deep. His stomach till hurts and he’s swollen, but he thinks he’s not dead. Perhaps not even dying. 

Hannah sleeps next to him on the bed, tugged under same covers. He loves the sight of her. Surely there cannot be anyone as beautiful, not anyone as pure and perfect. . .

Volmer touches his forehead. The mask is still on, but he would have to change it soon. But not now. Not while Hannah’s here. He cannot risk her seeing. . .

He wakes up the girl gently, touching her shoulder. She stirs, startled, guilty, perhaps even slightly afraid. 

“Help me to my room upstairs,” he tells, stroking her cheek with his thumb. 

Hannah hesitates. “Are you . . . angry with me?” 

He was more shocked than angry about what the girl had done. They might have to talk about it later.

“I am very disappointed with you, Hannah,” the good doctor tells, deciding he’d settle for a gentler reproach, for the moment. “What you did was very thoughtless. You hurt me very badly.” 

“I am sorry,” she tells again, remorseful. 

She would make it up to him. . .

“Help me to my room,” Volmer tells her again. He must have her out of the cellar, so he can come back by himself, to change the mask. 

Hannah obeys. She helps him off the bed, supporting his weight. Her hand lands on the swell of his exposed belly, making Volmer groan. 

Hannah makes a sound, a tiny gasp. She touches him again, eagerly. 

“Don’t, Hannah, don’t.” Volmer tells, pushing her hand away. “I have had enough of your cruelty for one day. . .” 

By her expression, he can tell the girl is disappointed. 

She escorts him to his room through deserted corridors. It is night. The sanitarium’s asleep. 

Volmer lets Hannah help him to the edge of the bed. He sits down, glaring in pain, raising a hand on his stomach. He was cramping again. 

“Give me my pajamas and leave,” he tells the girl, gasping in pain. He looks for the hydration-tablets from the drawer of his nightstand. 

Hannah looks at his swollen stomach, the way it presses against the edge of his opened belt. “Perhaps I should help you change,” she offers, ever so sweetly. 

Volmer doesn’t think so. He cannot risk it, to be tempted like that in his current state. Besides, another lesson in gentleness might do the girl good. . . 

He rises from the bed and Hannah gasps. She’s breathing fast, shallow. She’s aroused, Volmer can tell. 

He approaches her, grabbing her shoulder gently. Hannah’s hands find their way on his middle. Her eyes are dark. 

“Heinreich. . .”

He turns her around and escorts her to the door. 

“Get out, Hannah,” he tells, colder than he intended and pushes her out. 

He locks the door and rushes in the bathroom. 

He vomits again, groaning. 

It was going to be a long night. . .


End file.
